Strength Not Our Own
by Sarcasticles
Summary: Cynthia was scared of many things, but not this. Spoilers for 5x6


_"_ _God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear."_ Psalm 46: 1, 2a

Cynthia Miller entered Nonnatus House the way she entered many new places: with her knees knocking and terrified out of her wits. She was a new nurse and a newer midwife, and a large part of her wondered if maybe she wasn't just a bit mad. She's never known poverty nor hardship, and she was about ready to entrench herself in both for the sake of a calling she wasn't sure she'd even received.

It was Sister Evangelina who opened the door to greet her, and Cynthia almost ran back to the train station. She was small. Shy. The sort of creature the East End ate alive. The hours were demanding, as was the clientele she served. Even with the encouragement of the other nurses, Cynthia wasn't sure she was capable or competent enough to survive.

During her first delivery the mother screamed and screamed and screamed. Cynthia did her best to coach her through the birth of her child, but there were some things her training could not prepare her for. The conditions were deplorable, the husband mean, and her hands shook the entire time.

It was a little girl, perfectly healthy and with a set of lungs inherited from her mother. Afterword Sister Julienne said that she'd handled herself admirably, and for the first time since coming to London, Cynthia smiled.

* * *

 _"_ _Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit…For the body does not consist of one member but many…If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?...As it is, there are many parts, yet one body."_ 1 Corinthians 12: 4, 14, 17, 20

Nurses came and went from Nonnatus House, and with the arrivals of Jenny Lee and Chummy, Cynthia realized that somewhere along the way she'd become an old hand. She was still quiet and soft-spoken compared to her coworkers, but no longer could she be called timid. There was no room for reservations when dealing with the high-stress environment of the delivery room. Cynthia learned how to go toe to toe with the most curmudgeonly of old men, found the strength to speak her mind to the most intimidating of matriarchs, and developed the patience to endure the most trying of circumstances, of which there were many.

She would never have Trixie's bubbly personality or Sister Bernadette's ability to organize, and for a time Cynthia would wistfully wish she had even a portion of their talents. Surprisingly enough, it was Sister Monica Joan who asked her why she was so eager to desire the gifts of others when hers were just as important.

Cynthia wasn't sure her tanlent would be of any use to the East End, but the old nun had her own unique brand of wisdom brought on by years of experience, and Cynthia resolved to try. Soon she was purposefully stepping out into situations she knew would be difficult and uncomfortable, and found herself growing in ways she never thought possible.

Funnily enough, as the years passed Cynthia couldn't picture herself doing anything else.

* * *

 _"_ _Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted_." Mark 5:4

There was a reason why a nurse's closest friends are often other nurses. Most people thought little of life's beginning or end unless they were directly faced with it. Cynthia and her fellow coworkers saw it every day. The people of Poplar depended on them for strength during some of the best and worst moments of their lives.

Death…it changed people, and Cynthia became a young woman with an old soul. At first she tried to keep a record of them all, writing down each and every name of those who passed under her care. The death of the Kelly baby put a stop to that, but over time her burden to relieve the pain of the suffering only grew.

On bad days she would sit alone and listen to certain record over and over and over again. Those at Nonnatus House would know it was best to leave her alone with her thoughts, but they never allowed her to wallow in them. There was joy as well as pain in their work, blessing to get them through the hardship. Whatever they endured, they endured it together.

* * *

 _"_ _If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."_ James 1:5

It wasn't often that Cynthia felt different from her friends, but the dance hall never failed in that regard. She watched as Jenny, Chummy, Trixie, and even Jane and Shelagh found people to share their lives with. She was never jealous of their happiness, but there were only so many times she could stand being asked if she would ever settle down with a nice man of her own before she went mad.

But no man ever gave her the feelings her friends often described. There was never any spark of attraction, nor did she feel like there should have been. Her work fulfilled her, and even if it didn't no one ever took interest in her in _that_ way. Cynthia was content with her situation.

The idea to become a nun crept up on her so slowly that Cynthia almost surprised herself with it. She remembered Chummy's near-conversion to the religious life, listened to the Sister's stories of their own callings and found herself thinking of them often.

That first talk with Sister Julienne was one of the most difficult of her entire life, and it was months before she gathered the courage to mention it. Once she did, however, there was only peace. Cynthia was advised to wait, to pray and study the Word until she was sure, but deep inside she knew this was what she was supposed to do.

* * *

 _"_ _Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God."_ 2 Corinthians 1: 3, 4

At first there was only pain.

Sister Mary Cynthia woke on the cold, stone ground, not sure how she'd gotten there. She remembered the delivery—the worst she'd seen in a long time—and feeling the need to clear her mind before returning home. There was praise, glorious praise, and then…and then there was only pain.

It didn't take her long to realize how foolish, stupid, and _naive_ she'd been. Somehow she was able to make it back to Nonnatus House, feeling ashamed and betrayed by the God she'd devoted her life to. She was an unclean Jew entering the Holy of Holies, the defiled amongst the pure. Unworthy, weak, _dirty_ ; unable to do what her duty required of her.

But her strength was not her own. In her weakness she was wrapped in the arms of the Almighty, first through the voices of her friends and Sisters, then through His Word, and finally when she raised her voice in a broken lament that was worship of its own.

She didn't realize it at the time, but she had been preparing for this moment since she first stepped into Nonnatus House. The Scriptures told of an omnipotent Lord who worked out all things for good to those who loved Him. Others could not speak, so she would. It was not easy, and at times the pain felt like more than she could bear.

But Sister Mary Cynthia was not alone, and through the love of her family at Nonnatus House emerged from her trial stronger than ever before. Each day was a new beginning, and though her journey was just starting, she would walk faithfully down the path that had been set out before her.


End file.
